Child Plot
by Reason-Flower
Summary: A child is kidnapped from her home, and her babysitter brutally murdered. Elaine must find the girl without attracting the attention of the Warden investigating the case. Takes place between White Night and Small Favour.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I own no rights to the Dresden Files or any characters in that universe. But you knew that already.

Part 1

The phone rang.

It was the old kind, and the manic jingle gatecrashed Elaine's skull and threw a party inside. She staggered out of bed, wondering what the hell the time was. Her apartment was pitch black, and as quiet as it ever got in LA.

Well. Apart from that blasted phone.

Elaine murmured a spell to light a candle — just one, but even that was blinding for a second or two. She hurried into the kitchen, thankful that there was very little in the way of clutter to trip over. She yanked the phone off the hook.

"Hello?" she said.

"Um," a woman said. "Is this Elaine Mallory? The investigator?"

Elaine frowned. She'd had a few late night calls from the Paranet, but this voice was unfamiliar. "That's me," she confirmed. "How did you get this number?"

"It was in the phonebook."

"My ad doesn't mention my home number."

"But your personal entry does."

"Fair enough," Elaine said. "Who are you, and why are you calling me at … what time is it?"

The woman drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, I couldn't wait. The police said you could help. It's my daughter. Kelsey. She's been taken."

A missing child. Right. That would explain the hour of the call. But the police? "Madam, what's your name?"

"Naomi Jones."

"Naomi, are you married?"

She hesitated. "Divorced, actually. Is this important?"

"The police don't usually refer people to me so soon after the crime," Elaine explained. "When they do, it's because the case isn't serious —" more like non-existent "— and they've got more pressing issues to deal with. They're busy people. Do you think your ex could have taken her?"

"What? _No_!"

"It's quite common for a jealous parent to —"

"I'm friends with Gary," she snapped. "We share custody. He wouldn't do that. And he certainly wouldn't murder Jessica while he was at it."

Elaine froze. "Someone was murdered?"

"Jessica. The babysitter. I went out to dinner, and when I came back, the place looked like a bomb had gone off. Blood everywhere. And Jess …" Naomi's voice cracked. "Someone tore her apart. With their bare hands. I didn't know you could do that. Please, they've got my little girl …"

Elaine felt a prickle of envy, which she smothered. It was ridiculous to resent this child, just because her mother was afraid for her.

"Naomi, what did the police tell you, exactly?"

"They said — well, one of them said, anyway — that it looked really bad, and that I should go to you because you might be the only person who can help me. They're still investigating, though."

"All right, I'm going to need to examine the crime scene. Are the police still there?"

Naomi sniffed. "Yeah. Yeah, they said they're gonna be a while."

Of course they are, Elaine thought. But Naomi couldn't know that wasn't a problem for her. "Any dogs?"

"No. Not anymore."

Elaine hoped that meant they hadn't found anything. She had a few contacts on the police force, officers who were sympathetic to her work — and more importantly, knew a thing or two about the supernatural — and the tip had obviously come from one of them. But even they wouldn't have directed the case to her so soon unless the situation was very, very bad. Any cops who tracked down whatever did this would get themselves killed.

"Well, I'll be there as soon as I can," she said. "Don't worry, I'll get your daughter back." _Of course, it might be in a coffin._

"Thank you," Naomi said fervently. "I've got money, I'll pay you anything you need, just … you've got to find her."

A quarter of an hour later, Elaine hung up. She looked at the clock. It was three a.m.

* * *

It was a fifteen minute drive to the scene of the crime. Elaine made it in ten. She parked out of sight in the next street, never quite comfortable around authority figures, and strolled towards the address Naomi had given her.

Naomi wasn't kidding when she said she had money. Her suburban home was no mansion, but it looked like one. It looked like someone had thought long and hard about what the essence of a mansion really entailed, and captured it all at half the price. The shoulder-high wall of tan bricks gave the place a stately appearance and, Elaine noted, would also bar wayward children and pets from the road. The entire front of the house was festooned with some kind of climbing plant.

It probably would have been eerily peaceful if it wasn't swarming with bulky figures in police uniforms, with yellow and black tape everywhere and the flashing lights on their cars casting strange, unnatural shadows. The harsh-voiced officers did not belong here. The glaring spotlights they'd brought drowned out the soft glow from the solar lamps that marked the gate.

There was no way that Elaine Mallory, private investigator, was getting past that. But Elaine Mallory, renegade wizard, was an entirely different story.

It was the work of a moment to centre herself, a move which would have once taken her half an hour or more. It wasn't an easy skill to master, but it was absolutely essential. When a wizard cast a spell, any spell, they asserted their will in order to shape the world around them. Magic did not leave room for woolly thinking. It had no mind of its own, either. The practitioner had to direct it. There would be no self-cleaning dishes or automatic brooms unless you were clever enough to map out every single action involved. While Elaine did not know much about computers — her mere presence was enough to destroy anything resembling modern technology, and warranties be damned — she had heard that they worked in similar ways.

Elaine drew in a breath, and gathered in the magical energy from her surroundings. Gently, she wove beams of light so that they slid around her without so much as touching her. If anyone had been looking, they would have seen the road, the bushes behind her, a plastic bag by her shoe. They would not have seen a woman.

Not even an owl could have picked her out.

Elaine ghosted past the beat cops guarding the crime scene, snagging some protective gear from a supply truck when no one was looking. Twin plastic bags went on over her shoes, her hair was tucked up under a flimsy hair net, her hands thrust into latex gloves. It wouldn't do to leave trace evidence of herself at a murder site.

The door was cracked in two and hanging from its hinges. Inside was pandemonium. Furniture had not only been overturned but, by the looks of it, hurled across the room. Shards of glistening glass littered the floor, like ice underfoot. And everywhere, blood. Smeared on the walls, soaking into the carpet, dripping from the ceiling. The air was so thick that Elaine could practically taste it.

Her head swam. She reached out to steady herself, misjudged how close that damned chair was because she was too busy staring elsewhere, and ended up with blood on her wrist. It was sticky and horrible, but she clamped down on the urge to rush to the kitchen or the bathroom and wash it off. That could wait. She dabbed at it with some tissues instead.

The body was in the living room. It was bloody and broken beyond repair, but the girl's features were relatively intact, and she would be recognisable to those who knew her, if they could ignore what had happened. Her face was contorted with agonised terror — the norm, really, in her situation. Cartoons danced across the large flatscreen television, which was dented and lying on its side, but had missed out on serious damage. It seemed like a gross injustice, that a mere entertainment device, flashy and overpriced, should survive when a human being could not.

Elaine knelt by the body, examining the injuries. She frowned. The drawback to any veil was that messing with the light inevitably made it harder to see details around you. This effect could be lessened with practice, of course, but no matter how well-crafted the spell was, you never had perfect vision. The trade-off was usually worth it, but just now … there was something there, Elaine was sure of it. Some liquid, perhaps. The shine wasn't right. If she could just get a better look …

She glanced around quickly, confirming that no one was watching. The forensics must have moved on. Then she dropped the veil. Yes, she was right — there was a transparent, gelatinous liquid mingling with the blood. She reached out with her clean hand and scraped some up with her latex-clad finger. Cautiously, she sniffed it, and barely stopped herself from shoving her hand in her mouth and sucking the venom from her fingers as though her life depended on it.

Because that's what it was. Venom. It wasn't the kind of thing you forgot.

A voice reached her ears. "So here I am, minding my own business, as much as I can when I'm wading in blood, and suddenly I'm going mad."

_Shit_, Elaine thought. She straightened up and turned to face the newcomer. A young man stood in the doorway, somehow managing to give the impression of leaning against the frame despite not touching it. His hair and eyes were dark, and the long, grey cloak he wore suited him, even if it didn't suit his jeans.

"Mad?" Elaine said. "You?"

"I'm hearing footsteps," he said. "Disembodied footsteps. That's kind of like voices, right? Do you think I'll get a straitjacket?"

"I'm sure you'll charm your way out of it," Elaine said. "Put that time spent in front of the mirror to good use."

He winced in mock injury. "You mean you don't think I'm really this good looking?"

"Hell, I barely recognised you without the sword," she said.

"You wound me," he said.

Elaine rolled her eyes. "How can you blame me? What's a Warden without a sword?"

"Adaptable," he said. "Nice veil, by the way. Didn't think you had it in you. Where'd you pick it up?"

Elaine paused.

Carlos Ramirez, Warden and Regional Commander of the White Council of Wizards, was too young for the post he held. The White Council was traditionally a geritocracy. As far as they were concerned, anyone under eighty or so was purely an honorary member, and they balked at putting their faith in someone for whom wrinkles were barely a blip on the horizon.

Unfortunately, they'd had no choice. The ongoing war with the Red Court of Vampires had decimated the Wardens, and they'd been forced to open their ranks to anyone with a wizard-level talent and a gift for combat magic. Girls and boys as young as sixteen were being trained to fight. Some survived. Many didn't.

Ramirez had survived. He'd been hailed by the Council as one of the best and brightest of his generation. He'd received his post after he and a handful of other Wardens — including the infamous Harry Dresden, hastily drafted — had prevented a number of necromancers from working a rite of ascension which would have wiped Chicago off the map. Elaine personally discounted the rumours that dinosaurs were involved.

He was probably a nice guy. But Elaine wasn't about to trust him on that account. If he knew that she had hidden her strength from him or, God forbid, her involvement with Justin, he could and would get nasty. Even if he didn't simply execute her on suspicion of black magic, her freedom would be over. The Council would be Watching. They'd probably want her to join up — as cannon fodder, that is. And Elaine was through with being used.

So she lied. "I don't. It was a one-off, it took ages to make, and now I've blown it. But then, we can't all be White Council, can we?"

"Aren't you a little early?" he said. "Don't you trust the police anymore?"

"I could ask you the same thing, _Warden_," Elaine said. "Shouldn't you be chasing warlocks?"

"Who says I'm not?"

"Sure, okay," Elaine said. "What makes you think there's black magic involved here?"

"Does it even matter?"

"It matters according to your boss. Do you get paid for this?"

"I'm on a retainer," he said. "And I haven't ruled out warlocks yet. The real question is, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Just trying to earn a living. I'm _not_ on a retainer."

He frowned. "You don't think you're a little out of your depth here?"

"Blame the economy," Elaine told him.

Ramirez bit his lip. He gestured at their surroundings. "Well, then, what do you make of it?"

"Honestly?" Elaine said. "No idea. I found what looks like vampire venom on the body here, but this whole thing isn't their style. They're too smart to go drawing attention to themselves like this. And where did all this blood come from? Did they bring it with them? _Why_?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Ramirez said. "But I think I might know why they took Kelsey."

"You do? Because I'm drawing a blank."

"It's simple," he said. "They're recruiting."

Elaine eyed him. "I don't know if anyone's told you, but little girls don't make very good foot soldiers."

"What about adults who've been trained since they were kids?" he countered.

"If that's all they want, they can snatch thousands of kids off the streets, and no one would notice," Elaine said. "Why come here?"

"Maybe not just any kid will do," Ramirez said.

"What do you mean?"

"Could be they're looking for something specific," he said. "Something useful. Brains, fitness, charm … or magic."

Elaine considered this. "Is there any way to tell if a kid's got talent? Before it manifests, I mean?"

"Nothing that I know of," Ramirez said. "Most magic kids have got magic parents, but if there's anything in the family here, it's minor. I'd have heard about it if this lot had any serious juice."

"On the other hand, going after a stronger bloodline is asking for trouble," Elaine said. "The Council have been pussyfooting around from the start, but if something like this got out, they'd go up in flames." _And when they've thrashed the vamps, there'll be nothing to stop them from chasing after me._

"Can't lose the monopoly on magic," he said brightly. "If you can call it that. The Sidhe might object. And about a million other things."

"Heaven forbid we offend the Sidhe," Elaine said.

Ramirez shrugged. "Either way, you've got to stay clear."

"Excuse me?" Elaine said. "I told Mrs Jones that I would find her daughter. I can't back out now."

"If they're after practitioners, that makes you a target," Ramirez said.

"I'm not a proper wizard —"

"You're the next best thing. We can't afford to let them take you." Ramirez shook his head. "Look, I know you want to find Kelsey. Anyone would. But this is too much for you to handle. I'll take care of it, I promise. And then you can reunite the happy family and we can all go home."

"But —"

"I'll keep in touch, Elaine," Ramirez said.

With a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

Dammit. Flying under the Council's radar was hard enough when she wasn't literally sneaking around behind their backs, hunting their own prey.

Elaine tried to think about how she could turn the situation to her advantage. Chances were Ramirez was going after them now, right? Straight chase and rescue? He was too smart not to realise that there was no time to waste. If he got the girl, then so much the better. And if not, then jumping in blindly would be about the worst thing Elaine could do. Even if she didn't get herself killed she'd have to explain to the Wardens how she, a minor practitioner, could swat vampires like pixies.

So she'd just get her hands on some of Kelsey's hair — there had to be a hairbrush somewhere — and see what she could find out.

* * *

Which turned out to be nothing. Everything she tried failed. Her tracking spell was about as useful as a compass in a steel factory. She couldn't determine a thing about Kelsey — whether she was hot or cold, dead or alive, east or west of the Pacific. And that didn't just happen to Elaine.

The vampires, it seemed, had come armed for wizard.

That meant they were _interesting_.

Elaine knew who to talk to next.

She managed to track down Cyrilla to a mid-range casino in the city centre. Cyrilla was one of the high Sidhe, the lords of Faerie, all of whom were infamous for their love of knowledge and secrets. Elaine had met Cyrilla back when she was beholden to the Summer Lady. They weren't close. But no one knew more about what went on in LA than Cyrilla, and she would be happy to share that information with anyone … for a reasonable fee.

The casino Cyrilla had chosen, the Sunrise Casino, looked like it aspired to being more than what it was, although that "more" seemed to amount to being an epileptic's worst nightmare. Flashing lights were all very well, Elaine thought, but maybe they shouldn't be stuck to every available surface?

At any rate, it had all the standard casino fare, card tables and pokies and so on. Security guards who weren't too overweight. Most importantly, it had people, their faces bland as they bet on cards and spinning wheels or pressed coins into slots. They didn't smile like they did in the brochures. They could almost have been on the train or at the mall, but their eyes were hard and they never looked away.

None of them looked like an ancient being of myth and legend, either. It was a good thing that Elaine didn't need to go by appearances alone.

She closed her eyes. Wizards could perceive the flow of magical energy around them, and if she concentrated, she could just about … there. On the far side of the casino was a flare of warmth, like fire.

Summer fire.

It didn't take long to track that warm energy to a shadowy, secluded alcove. That seemed about right. Cyrilla would want to carry out her business in private. She probably had an arrangement with the manager.

Elaine lingered nearby. She was close enough to be noticed, but not so close as to intrude or eavesdrop. That would be a serious breach of etiquette.

She waited.

"Hello." A voice spoke in her ear. It was a voice that Susan Boyle would have killed for.

It also did not appear to have a source.

Elaine smiled. "If it pleases you, lady …"

"It's wonderful to see you, Ms Mallory. Would you care to join me?"

"If it's not too much trouble," Elaine said. She crossed the intervening space and slipped into the alcove.

Cyrilla inclined her head, in an echo of the courtly bow she might have used in other settings. She was stunning, as all the Sidhe were. Her figure was slender and feminine, her skin soft, and she had masses of pale, shining hair. Her eyes were the deep blue of a summer sky, with the slit pupils of a cat. Her face was perfect.

Elaine took a seat opposite the faerie.

"And how may I help you?" Cyrilla asked.

"I'm investigating a crime that occurred last night," Elaine said. "I thought you might be able to shed some light on the situation."

Cyrilla raised her eyebrow. "The activities of criminals are hardly my concern."

"I didn't mean to suggest otherwise," Elaine said. "But this was no ordinary crime."

"I do not perceive …"

"A child was abducted from her home and her guardian murdered," Elaine said. "I don't know how many attackers there were, but at least one vampire of the Red Court was present. They covered their tracks with magic."

"And you object to their actions," Cyrilla said.

"Do you know anything?"

"I know many things," Cyrilla said. "But which, if any, should I tell you?"

"Those which directly pertain to the situation," Elaine said. "That which I cannot do without."

"I'm afraid that is still too broad to be useful."

"Where are they? Who are they? What are they doing?" Elaine waved her hand in the air. "_Why_ are they doing it?"

"And, perhaps, whether or not there is any point in pursuing them," Cyrilla offered.

Elaine snorted. "I'm being paid. That's reason enough."

"Well, it may be that I know something of those whom you seek," Cyrilla said. "What would you be willing to offer for that knowledge?"

"My undying gratitude?"

Cyrilla didn't bother to respond to that.

When Elaine spoke, she took care to ensure that her voice was respectful. "Give me some credit, please. I'm not going to make you an offer until I know what the information is worth."

"Ah," Cyrilla said. "I suppose you want me to tell you how many of your questions I can answer before you even ask them."

"It's not an unreasonable proposition."

"The information is sensitive. Even the extent of my knowledge might tell you more than I wish you to know."

Elaine didn't like the sound of that. "Does it touch upon matters which concern me?"

"I couldn't say," Cyrilla said.

"You know my purpose," Elaine said. "You know the extent of my knowledge. I examined the crime scene and talked to the girl's mother, and I couldn't find any reason to target _this_ kid in particular. Couldn't you make a guess as to how much your information would be worth to me?"

"It's not as simple as you think," Cyrilla said. "True, the information might not have much importance to you, beyond the immediate crisis. But it carries serious implications for greater matters."

"That's true of so much information the Sidhe have that it's hardly worth commenting on," Elaine said.

"All the same …"

"Madam, I don't deal with the White Council. Or the Red Court, for that matter. The fact that the Red Court is planning to reignite the war is interesting, yes. But —"

"I didn't say that," Cyrilla said.

"_But_," Elaine said, "it isn't nearly as important to me as it is to the Council, and I can't take it to them without attracting their attention. I don't want that. The price will depend on whether your info helps me find Kelsey."

There was a long pause. Elaine refused to look away.

"Yes," Cyrilla said finally. "I can see why my lady chose you."

"Aurora's dead," Elaine said.

"She underestimated you."

Elaine shivered. Truthfully, Aurora hadn't. Elaine had been so scared of everything that she'd allowed herself to be used in a plot which would have destroyed most of civilisation. She didn't want that. But what could she do about it?

The plot failed, thanks to the intervention of one Harry Dresden. Aurora underestimated _him_. Elaine wasn't going to tell that to Cyrilla. But sometimes she wondered if a higher power were at work that day. How else could you explain the presence of the one person whom Elaine _wasn't_ willing to sacrifice?

"So will you answer my questions?" Elaine said.

"I can do better," Cyrilla said. "The responsibility for this situation lies in the hands of one creature in particular. I can take you to him. If you so desire."

"At what cost?"

"Little cost," Cyrilla said.

"I'll be the judge of that," Elaine said.

"I would like," Cyrilla said, "to know something of your history. The circumstances of your birth. Your parentage. Your time with Justin DuMorne — and his other apprentice, Harry Dresden."

"But not my involvement with Aurora?"

"Would you like to tell me about that, also?" Cyrilla asked.

"I think you know enough already," Elaine said.

Cyrilla's eyes glittered with something like amusement. "Very well." She extended her hand. "Shall we?"

Elaine didn't move a muscle. "Why? Why do you want to know about me?"

"Because you interest me, wizard. I adore interesting people."

"There's something you're not telling me," Elaine said.

Cyrilla burst into laughter. "My dear, what could that possibly be?"

This was it, then. The key to everything. Elaine had come here hoping for _something_, some clue that might open up a new avenue of investigation, but she'd got much more than that. Cyrilla was handing over her quarry on a silver plate. The silver was slightly tarnished, perhaps, but wasn't that always the case when you dealt with the fae? This whole ugly affair might end happily.

If she was willing to take a risk.

"All right," Elaine said. She placed her hand in Cyrilla's.

* * *

Author's note: Part 2 is complete and will follow soon.


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: Refer to previous disclaimer.

Part 2

Elaine forced herself to stay relaxed as Cyrilla opened the Way to the Nevernever. It wasn't easy. It was possible to travel almost anywhere through the spirit world, if you knew which parts of it connected where. Classical geography did not apply to a dimension governed by emotion, symbol, and metaphor. Places in the Nevernever were closest, so to speak, to those places in the real world which resembled them most closely. You could open a Way in Paris, take a fifteen minute walk, and dine in Sydney. It was just a matter of knowing a safe path. Faeries were the world's best commuters.

Elaine had done it herself, plenty of times, but she didn't do it the way Cyrilla did. Elaine would open a door, which a person might step through, or not, at their own leisure. It resembled nothing so much as a gaping hole in the air, with monsters on the other side. It was simple, it was fast, and it worked.

Cyrilla opened the Way _around_ them. One moment they were standing in the brightly-lit casino, full of people and people sounds, and the next, they were in a shady forest. Elaine hadn't moved so much as a muscle.

It was chilling.

"Smooth," Elaine commented. "Are we in Summer?"

"It is my home," Cyrilla said.

"Some home you've got," Elaine said. She peered into the gloom. She could make out nothing but trees. Here and there, a ray of sunlight managed to reach the leaf-strewn ground. There was the not-quite-silence of whispering leaves and distant birdsong. "Which way?"

Cyrilla led her fifty metres or so in a direction that Elaine decided to think of as north. The scenery didn't really change. They came to a halt before a large, upright stone that looked like it had been borrowed from Stonehenge.

Cyrilla readjusted her grip on Elaine's hand, and the world changed again.

It became dark, almost pitch black. And it reeked. It smelled of rot, and excrement, and stagnant water. Elaine felt around with her free hand. Her fingers found a cold, slimy wall. She realised where they were.

"We're in the sewers," she said. She reached for the silver pentacle she wore on a chain around her neck, and slipped her will into it. The amulet glowed with a soft green light that was just enough to see by. Her guess was confirmed instantly. They stood at a kind of crossroads formed by the intersection of two tunnels. Elaine was grateful for the ledge which raised them above the filthy water pooling on the ground.

"Yes," Cyrilla said. "It's rather distasteful, but I suppose there are advantages."

When Elaine had been to Chicago, she'd spent some time in that section of the city known as Undertown. Most of the residents didn't known about the mind-boggling maze of tunnels, sunken houses, caves, sewers and the like beneath their tidy homes, and it was a very good thing that they didn't. It was the perfect haven for monsters and other creatures that didn't like the sun, and any normal human who ventured there would likely never return.

The sewers of Los Angeles weren't like that. They were just sewers. But they could make for a handy refuge in times of need, if you could stomach the smell.

Cyrilla seemed perfectly at home. "So tell me, how do you like Los Angeles?"

"There are parts of it which could use a good vacuuming," Elaine said. "Whole districts, in fact."

"The dust, yes. It's the bane of desert life," Cyrilla said.

Elaine eyed the water. "It could be worse. It could be putrid gunk."

"I suppose that's a bright side, of sorts."

"Is there any reason why we're standing around making small talk?" Elaine asked.

"Would you prefer silence?"

"I would prefer to know what's going on," Elaine said. "I haven't lived this long by making a target of myself."

"Is that why you deliberately put yourself in harm's way, getting involved in this affair?"

"That's different."

"Because of the child?"

"What do you think?"

"It does you credit," Cyrilla said. "I've alerted our host, and he will be with us shortly."

Elaine stiffened. "He's offered us his hospitality?"

"It's the civilised thing to do," Cyrilla said.

"Yeah, well, _civilised_," Elaine said. "I don't think that's his strong point."

Cyrilla just smiled.

A man's voice spoke. "Isn't it unfair to make assumptions?"

Elaine turned.

He could have been in his thirties, his hair brown and wavy, dressed in casual business wear and sensible shoes. There was a pen in his front pocket. He had an air of unassuming respectability about him.

And he was a vampire.

"There's nothing wrong with assumptions," Elaine said. "Just don't let them take over."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "I'll have to get you to think better of me, then." He extended a hand. Elaine shook it. "I'm Richard. What can I do for you?"

"I'm pretty sure you know."

He spread his arms wide. "Do I? You're an enigmatic figure, Ms Mallory. You don't make yourself easy to predict."

"Predictability is overrated. Assume I have some idea of what you're up to and make a guess."

"My sources indicated that you don't involve yourself with Council matters," Richard said. "In fact, you seem to make it a point to avoid them."

_Aha_, Elaine thought, and said, "I had no idea the Council cared about stolen children."

"Its younger, more sentimental members do," Richard said.

It hit Elaine. "Ramirez. That's what this whole thing is about. You're setting a trap for him."

"Precisely. I don't by any means wish to make an enemy of you, but … you do understand that I can't simply hand the girl over to you. Not just yet."

Cyrilla said, "I hoped you two might be able to come to some arrangement. You might find you share common ground."

"I'll be delighted if that is the case," Richard assured her. He turned to Elaine. "A weregild is standard; as this is part of the war effort, I'd be willing to include a hefty token of my regard — and thanks for keeping this little affair to yourself, of course. If you'd care to name a price …"

"I have a better idea," Elaine said.

"Oh?"

She locked eyes with him. "Give me Kelsey and I'll give you Ramirez."

Richard looked floored. Elaine had expected that. Some things were always shocking. It couldn't be helped. Arrange a meeting with someone and say, "Hello, you are my father," and once they'd stopped laughing at you they'd probably need to sit down. "Let me stab my ally in the back for you" also got more than a raised eyebrow in most circles.

Elaine had dealt with this kind of thing before. Next would come questions, like "Why on earth should I trust you?" and possibly, "What have you been smoking?" If they could be convinced that you were sincere, they usually finished up by making you swear on your magic, your soul, your mother's grave, and the welfare of cute little puppies that you weren't going to betray _them._

A traitor's life was a hard one.

It could be done, though. The trick was to get them to see things from your point of view.

Richard opened his mouth to speak.

"Let me explain," Elaine said quickly. He nodded.

"I don't like the Council," she continued. "They're a bunch of self-righteous old fossils. I can live with that. I'm not breaking any laws. But there are certain things in my past that … well, I don't think the Wardens are going to care that it wasn't my fault."

Understanding dawned. "And any action you take is likely to draw their attention."

"You see my problem," Elaine said.

"No," Richard said. "If the Wardens lose Ramirez, they'll replace him with someone else, someone who might not be nearly as tolerant as he is. Why risk it?"

"I don't want to. But he's been getting suspicious. Better safe than sorry."

"An admirable philosophy, I've always thought," Richard said.

"It's served me well," Elaine agreed. "And you never know — they're stretched pretty thin these days. Maybe they'll just ask one of the other regional commanders to cover this area as well. Harry Dresden, perhaps."

Richard appeared to give the offer serious consideration. "You do realise that I still can't trust you, right? I'll need your oath before I can afford to bring you in."

Elaine grinned. "I know. I swear on my power as a wizard that I will not raise my hand nor magic nor any weapon against you, nor to do so by proxy, nor to alert your prey somehow, for so long as you persist in this endeavour. Would you like me to say it thrice?"

"I think I'll let you off that little formality," he said. He addressed Cyrilla. "Madam, would you be willing to bear witness to this compact?"

Cyrilla's eyes reflected the greenish light from Elaine's necklace. "Oh, yes," she murmured. "Yes, indeed."

* * *

Elaine stood with Richard on a balcony. It had been placed in the sewers for some mysterious reason known only to the engineer who designed it. When the real action kicked off, Elaine would be in the perfect position to watch it unfold. She wouldn't even be in any danger. Richard was a very considerate host.

Now she spoke, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of rushing water that came at them from every direction. "What I don't understand is, why Ramirez? What's so special about him? I know he's good for his age, but … the war will be over before he's anything like a major power."

Richard nodded. "You're right, of course. I know that just one junior wizard isn't going to get me much more than a pat on the head. But you've got to start somewhere, right?"

"So you're working your way up to the big fish, then?"

He beamed. "Exactly. You can't tackle the Senior Council on a shoestring budget, after all."

"Sounds like hard work," Elaine said.

"Protestant work ethic," Richard said. "If you're going to do something, do it properly."

For a moment, he sounded like Justin. Elaine could remember being told the same thing, when she was twelve and bored with her schoolwork. She'd asked Justin why she should have to put as much effort into history as she did her magical studies. What difference did it make? He said it was the principle of the thing that mattered.

Elaine refused to let her mind dwell on the comparison. It would only cloud the issue.

"What are you going to do once you've captured him? From what I've heard, people don't fully turn until they've killed someone. How on earth are you going to get Ramirez to do that?"

"Do you think he'll be uncooperative?"

"You must have planned for it."

"Naturally," Richard said. "But it doesn't pose too much of a problem. The thirst is strong, and we're able to exert some influence over those we turn. It's just a matter of applying the right pressure."

"Meaning …?"

"Oh, pain should do it. Along with drugs, of course."

And that was the last thing Elaine wanted to think about. She changed the subject. "I love the way you hid yourselves," she said. "I must have tried a dozen spells. Nothing worked."

Richard looked enormously pleased with himself. "Well, of course we didn't know that you would be involved, but it was safe to assume that Ramirez would use magic to track us, so we had to take steps. With our limited resources, that meant getting creative."

"Well done," she said, and meant it. The area they were in was a … reservoir? A catchment area? Elaine didn't know. Something like that. The important thing was, they were surrounded by incalculable volumes of water. There were nearly four million people crammed into the relatively small area called Los Angeles City, and the result was an astronomical amount of waste. It all had to go somewhere. That somewhere, apparently, was here. What happened next was a mystery, but Elaine suspected it was an impressive feat of civil engineering.

The genius of hiding here was that, no matter how powerful the magic was, enough running water would ground out anything. It was the perfect barrier. Elaine's spells probably hadn't stood a chance.

It was a sobering reminder that magic was no match for intelligence.

A vampire loomed out of the shadows. This was not difficult. The tunnel — cavern, really — that they were in was huge, and filled with twisting shadows. Everywhere Elaine looked, there were pipes. Huge ones, like a nest of prehistoric serpents from some horror movie. Snakezilla. It was a hell of a place for an evil lair.

This vampire did not look human. Its skin was dark and leathery. When it opened its mouth, fangs gleamed against an ugly, bat-like face. It moved in a permanent half-crouch, narrow shoulders hunched over a pot belly. Its limbs were wrong: two long and too skinny, almost frail-looking. Its walk was wrong, too. Not just bizarre, as its knees faced backwards like the hind legs of a wolf, but a little too fast, a little too graceful. It was ridiculous and deadly.

It was nothing Elaine hadn't seen before. "Hello, Andy."

The horrible, bat-like monstrosity nodded to her. And drooled a little.

"The target has passed the first perimeter," it rasped. "At his current pace, he's estimated to arrive in approximately ten minutes' time."

"Thank you," Richard said. "Now, to your position, please."

Andy turned and bounded away.

Elaine activated the enchanted bangles on her wrists. It was the magical equivalent of donning night-vision goggles, except that the military version didn't give you the eyes of a hawk, and it had no effect on the other four senses.

It was as though a veil had been stripped away. Beneath the roar that surrounded them, Elaine could hear water dripping in the distance. She could see and smell the mould growing beneath her feet. She saw Andy, too, crouched upon a pipe two hundred metres away.

She would definitely be able to see Ramirez.

Richard picked up the sleek-looking tranquilliser rifle that had been leaning against the balcony beside him. With a few easy motions, he loaded it and set it back down again, at a careful distance. Elaine fervently hoped that he had left the safety catch on.

Richard grinned at Elaine. His eyes had turned matt black.

* * *

Ramirez, it seemed, had been hanging around Harry for too long. It was rubbing off on him.

Elaine had known he was coming. She knew when and where to expect him. And she was still taken aback at the sight of him.

He strolled into the cavern, wizard's staff in one hand and a long, silver sword in the other. He looked very different. Gone were the jeans and the cocky smile. He wore dark army fatigues and combat boots under his cloak, and his face was a mask. Nothing about him suggested anger, and yet fury radiated from him. The tip of his staff glowed with emerald light, sending shadows sweeping across the floor.

Elaine half-wished he wasn't soaked to the knees with filthy sewer water, just so she could watch the cloak billowing around him. Warden or not, that would have looked cool.

"Knock, knock," he drawled.

Silence.

"No, you're supposed to say, 'Who's there?'" Ramirez cast his eyes towards the ceiling. "People, you're violating a classic playground tradition here. Show some respect."

He stepped around a bend and the light from his staff reached Kelsey, just fifty metres from him. He froze. Elaine understood why.

The girl lay slumped on a high wooden platform — bound, bruised and catatonic. Blood stained her pajamas. Her eyes were slits, and there was something blissful about her expression. It had taken Elaine a lot of effort not to blast Richard into smithereens when she realised what he'd used to drug Kelsey.

Venom, again. Wasn't it always? When the horror in Ramirez's face intensified, Elaine thought he'd guessed it, too.

"You know," Ramirez said, "I was going to say something funny, but now I'm not in the mood."

It was conveniently timed. Andy dropped out of the darkness above, coming down directly on top of him. Ramirez threw himself to the side. The vampire swiped at him with its claws, managing to tear into the muscles of his calf. Blood sprayed from the wound.

Ramirez rolled onto his feet, barely slowing down. Even then, he wasn't fast enough — but he didn't have to be. He hadn't let go of his weapons. Before he was half-way up he was slashing at the air between him and his attacker with the sword. It didn't touch Andy. It wasn't meant to. Instead, it kept him at bay for those few crucial seconds while Ramirez recovered.

Andy sprang into the air again, somersaulted, and landed behind Ramirez.

Ramirez didn't turn around. He thrust his staff behind him and let loose with a wave of pure kinetic energy. Andy was knocked flying. He crashed into a pipe twenty metres away.

Ramirez spun to face Andy. He pointed his staff in its direction and a jet of bright green energy lanced towards it. The blast slammed into Andy's chest. For less than a second, he glowed green, before crumbling to dust.

"I guess it's a good thing you weren't the talkative type," Ramirez said.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't get a response. Ramirez shrugged and began limping towards Kelsey.

Elaine, meanwhile, was impressed. She'd never had the opportunity to see Ramirez in action. She knew he'd received some nasty injuries during the White Court coupe, when he and Harry challenged the vampires that had been killing mortal women as part of a plot to seize power. It made her wonder what on earth had happened that night.

She couldn't think about that now. It was time for the explosives.

Richard had set them up well in advance. They were strategically positioned throughout the cavern and the surrounding tunnels, just waiting to be set off. When they were, they would effectively destroy dozens of pipes. The cavern would flood, and anyone caught in it would be swept away. It might take a few minutes, but the silencing spells Elaine had crafted would ensure that it went unnoticed. Initially.

Sure enough, water began to swirl around Ramirez's feet, lapping at his boots. He glanced around nervously, set his shoulders and picked up the pace. He was unprepared for the wall of water that came surging towards him.

It knocked him over. The water sucked Ramirez under, and he disappeared.

Elaine went rigid with tension. Her heart pounded. If Ramirez died now … but thirty seconds later he resurfaced. Choking and spluttering, he managed to stay afloat. He started swimming, or trying to swim, crossways to the currents. He couldn't resist their pull, though, and the wave dragged him along in its wake. Ramirez smacked against the underside of a pipe and vanished beneath it.

Elaine waited. It seemed like forever before an arm shot up out of the darkness behind the pipe. Ramirez hauled himself up and collapsed there. He lay panting for a few minutes, the water streaming off him, and then he pushed himself onto his knees and stood.

He didn't move until he'd sighted on Kelsey. She was safe and dry on her platform, well above the water. Once he'd oriented himself, his eyes scanned the pipes that lay between them. If Elaine were in his place, she'd be looking for the fastest, safest route to the girl.

He seemed to find it. It didn't take him long to get to Kelsey's platform. It was situated at roughly eye-level relative to where he was standing on the nearest pipe. There was no ladder or climbing aid — vampires didn't need them — and the support beams were well out of his reach.

Ramirez took a deep breath, which Elaine unconsciously mirrored.

He jumped.

He — well, he basically crashed into the corner post, as graceful as a turkey trying to fly. But he got his arms around it all the same, and he pulled himself up onto the platform, leaving only a smear of blood from his leg.

Ramirez sheathed his sword and knelt beside Kelsey. Very gently, he examined her body. Checking for booby traps? If so, he found none. Elaine had known he wouldn't.

Ramirez gathered Kelsey into his arms. Elaine wasn't sure, but she thought the girl might have pressed her face more closely to his chest.

_Finally_.

Now was the time to act. Now Richard could take him. Ramirez was exposed. Vulnerable, for the first time. He was tired and hurt, and any active spells would have washed away in the flood. And, of course, he was carrying a child. Elaine thought she knew enough about Ramirez to know how much of a handicap that last one could be.

Elaine's eyes slid towards the gun. This was what it all came down to, in the end. Not magic, not monsters. Just human nature and a human weapon. It had always been about this moment.

Richard stretched out his hand to take the gun, a broad smile on his face.

Elaine snatched it away from him.

She dropped to the floor, throwing up a veil just as Richard hurtled through the space where she'd been standing. He missed her by centimetres. The gun went off with an alarmingly loud bang, but Elaine couldn't tell from where she was if Ramirez had heard it. She rolled to the side and lay pressed against the wall.

Richard's flesh mask hung in tatters. Beneath it, he was as twisted as and ugly as any other vampire. His eyes were wild with rage and thwarted bloodlust.

And he was standing less than a metre away.

Elaine didn't dare move. She threw everything she had into that veil. She hid everything. Not just the sight of her, this time, but the sound of her hammering heart and ragged breath. Her scent. Everything.

She was imperceptible. You'd trip over her before you knew she was there.

But if Richard worked it out, she was done for. She'd given her word — no, she'd sworn on her power not to hurt him. He'd made no such promise.

Richard's head turned this way and that. Elaine could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

There was only one spell she could cast.

An illusion.

From beneath them came the sound of what might have been a foot slipping on greasy stairs. It was barely audible. It was just loud enough for Richard to hear.

He swung himself over the balcony railing and dropped onto the stairs below. He landed with a dull crash, and from somewhere in front of him an invisible woman cursed. Or so he thought.

Elaine stayed where she was until the waters had subsided. Richard was long gone.

* * *

It was raining, for once, when Elaine saw Cyrilla again. It looked to be clearing up, though. They'd have blue skies soon enough. Elaine had chosen to meet at a small coffee shop nearby where she lived. She'd found the place not long after she moved to LA, and it had charmed her instantly. There wasn't a huge range of food, but it tasted nice enough, and the place felt genuine.

One moment Elaine was alone, sipping her cappuccino, and the next, Cyrilla was gracing the room with her presence. That was standard for the fae. It was supposed to make them seem more enigmatic or something.

"Hey," Elaine said tiredly.

"Good morning," Cyrilla said. "I can hardly wait. I'm sure it must be a fascinating tale."

"Maybe," Elaine said.

"Where would you like to begin?"

"You know, I don't think I will," Elaine said. "I noticed a couple things last night. I don't know if you noticed me noticing. You were working with Richard."

"I knew of his presence here," Cyrilla said. "That's not the same thing."

"No. But you knew where to find him and how to contact him. And he _came_. Just like that."

Cyrilla's face was as lovely and unreadable as a porcelain doll's. "Why should that affect our deal?"

"It doesn't, necessarily, but I'd like to offer you another one," Elaine said. "In exchange for not telling you about me, I won't tell the Summer Lady about you."

"Why should I care who you tell?" Cyrilla said.

"You've chosen to side with the Red Court," Elaine said. "Even though they violated Unseelie territory. Even though Summer officially supports the White Council. And you're keeping it quiet. From what I've heard of the new Lady … I think she'd be _very_ interested to hear about that."

"This affair was a private matter. I've broken no law," Cyrilla said.

"Maybe not. But do you really think she'll just forget about it?"

Cyrilla was quiet for a few moments. "I see. Is there anything else you would like to say?"

"Not unless you'd like to buy a tranquilliser gun," Elaine said. "I don't know what to do with it."

There was a flicker of a smile. "No, but thank you. I'm sure you'll think of something." She went to leave, and paused. "Just out of curiosity … what of Richard?"

"Dead. I tracked him down afterwards."

"Well done," Cyrilla said. "I think I shall watch you in future."

"Suit yourself," Elaine said, and went back to her coffee. She didn't watch Cyrilla go. She left as soon as she finished her drink. She had things to do.

There were always things to do.

THE END

* * *

Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed this story. Questions? Comments? Remember, constructive criticism is like exercise: it's not much fun, but it's good for me.


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